I enjoyed a few days in Suffolk. The sun shone and Dog insisted on a walk.
We looked at the map; he agreed we should go to Halesworth and follow the Blyth river pretty much all the way.
Which we did. It’s a lovely four miles.
There are well managed farms, with meadow grasses and cattle; there are straw bales and reed beds.
There are nettles. Geez are there nettles.
At one point I thought I was going mad.
I heard voices. Anxious voices.
But I couldn’t see anyone. The fields to my left were empty.
Those across the river to my right equally unmanned and yet somewhere close by two men were debating something with a degree of animation.
Eventually I spotted them; they were kayakers, battling the enormous reeds in a vain attempt to row up the river to Halesworth.
There were butterflies and moths a’plenty.
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